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Not in Kansas anymore
My fondest and most difficult road trip was one of 1,500 miles. After living in Kansas for six years, I finally gathered the determination to move back to my home state. The aridness of the Midwest made me miss the coast, so I not only decided to move, but to follow the road until it stopped at the ocean. U-Haul in tow, I drove my snow-caked Jeep across Kansas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Tennessee and through the mountains of North Carolina. My memory of North Carolina roads was six years old and not trustworthy. Somehow I ended up driving to the Virginia border instead of across the state on I-40. And I noticed a black film gathering on the back of my Jeep. The next morning, I drove the rest of the way and ended at Fort Macon, where I saw a dredging ship under a beautiful overcast coastal sky. I traveled back to New Bern and my new job. It turns out my Jeep had blown a seal, a bad computer chip, suspect brake pads and was a general death trap. But it got me to where I needed to be. I am now married, ecstatic and home. Timothy Kimble |
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